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The World Series of Poker is Under Way...
The plane touched down on the tarmac here in Las Vegas on Saturday, 9 a.m. As it taxied down the runway, turning and aiming for the gate, the Las Vegas cityscape became visible. I saw the MGM Grand, the Luxor, and my jaw dropped. A smile formed, and I said the only words I could muster: "Holy shit."
Cue the requisite text message to every person I know, including those I haven't spoken to in years.
After spending an hour stumbling around the airport, grinning from ear to ear, I found my way to a taxi and went straight to the hotel. I decided to play a game at that point, a game I'm sure everyone who's experiencing Las Vegas for the first time engages in: "How long can I go without taking a taxi down to the strip?"
I made it about ten hours. Did I win?
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| Photo by Justin West | |
I started playing poker when I was seventeen, at that point a lowly tech-support agent for Apple Computer. On a fateful smoke break one day in 2002 I mentioned that I was interested in finding a poker game.
"You should talk to Leslie," was the response I received from almost everyone.
Curious, I sent her an e-mail saying that she didn't know me, but I was referred to her by folks that said she was "in-the-know" when it came to the Austin poker scene, and could she get me into a game? Five minutes later and she was at my cube, perched atop the formica desk top with her hands clasped between her knees.
"So," Leslie said. "What do you want to play?"
Leslie is an Austin success story. I will maintain my proclamation of the following statement until the day my last breath escapes me: "Leslie Michaelis is the best dealer I have ever encountered."
I will also maintain this one: "Leslie Michaelis should never, ever, deal to me."
Ever had a player hold over you, holding quads when you've got a top boat, or flopping trip jacks to your trip eights? Yeah? Well, Leslie holds over me as a dealer. It hurts. But I still love her.
I spent years in Austin watching Leslie deal, becoming a friend to her, hoping all the while that she'd move onward and leave behind the stagnant realm that is the Austin dealers market. There's no room for advancement. And, my friends, I'm happy to say that she made it. She's now a dealer at the Bellagio... success!
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| The Bellagio (Photo by Justin West) | |
My first action in Las Vegas was to head to the Bellagio and see Leslie. I made the ten minute walk to the casino from my hotel room, excitement growing with every step as the Bellagio and Ceasar's grew ever closer.
"Holy shit," I said again when I'd crossed the freeway and stood in awe at the base of the building.
I haven't seen Leslie in over a year, and as I stepped up to her table I was amused to see her in "dealer mode," head lowered, eyes darting, stoic in her appearance and deliberate in her actions. Then, when she raised her head to acknowledge the player I stood behind, she finally noticed me and she melted. Aww!
After her shift Leslie took me on a personal tour of Las Vegas. We cruised down the strip for a bit and turned into Circus Circus, just so I could see the venue for Hunter S.Thompons's legendary, ether-induced stagger that was immortalized in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
From there, all I was really interested in seeing was downtown... old school Las Vegas. I wanted to see Binion's, even if it isn't the same anymore.
As we walked into the casino, Leslie looked at me and said: "Before we go in here... I'm sorry."
"Why?
I'm not sure what it looked like before, but I was unimpressed with the room. The Bellagio was still packed to the brim when we left, and Binion's was a ghost town. Sad.
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| Photo by Justin West | |
Seeing the wall of fame, however, was a pleasure. Stuey, Brunson, Chan, Hellmuth, Moss, Slim... all the greats still up there. Even though the place may have changed, ghosts still haunt the halls and rooms. You can truly feel the emotion, the excitement, the disappointment, every feeling that has coursed through the veins of the millions upon millions of patrons that have traversed that carpet.
A place doesn't have to have a poltergeist to be haunted, and Binion's is proof positive. It is haunted by the memories of days long since past, times when it was the place to be, filled to the brim with patrons searching for their dreams.... or even just getting their fix. It is the birthplace of the event I now write to you from. Binion's has its ghosts... that is a fact.
Fremont street was a sad sight at 5 a.m. Barren would be the best word for it. Leslie and I never had that drink, opted instead for a cup of coffee and a trip down Memory Lane. We had fun, just making our way up and down what used to be the hallmark of Vegas gambling.
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| Photo by Justin West | |
Took a great shot of the Four Queens, preserved in black and white for a sense of nostalgia. Strange that one can be nostalgic about a place and time that preceded them by decades.
When I saw the sun start to come up, black sky giving way to a dusty dawn, I felt it was time to make my way back home. It had been a long day, and sleep had still yet to come to me.
Leslie dropped me back off at the hotel and watched me import the photos you're looking at here, we chatted a bit, and I saw her off.
Enjoying a cigarette and watching the sunrise in a town with more history than I could ever learn, I felt at peace. A good night and a good day to come... if finally felt real.
Welcome to Vegas.
More to come later today.
 J
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